


Grovel

by bloodandcream



Series: Ship all the Ships [48]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Blood, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, F/M, Shoe Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a hobby. There was nothing like making a man grovel at her feet for the privilege to lick her shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grovel

Abaddon cinched the belt tighter and secured it above his elbows, sliding her fingers underneath and testing it’s hold. Naked on his knees, arms bound and wrists tied, he squirmed and tugged at the bindings.

Crowley was a bit older and not the most flexible sub. There was give to the restraints above his elbows, shoulder blades pulled back sharply and it made his back arch, made his pot belly jut out even more in front. He wasn’t a very attractive man, by Abaddon’s standards, but he made for an excellent sub. And he was one of the most masochistic men she’d had the pleasure of knowing.

Circling in front of him, towering above him in her heels, Abaddon put a hand on her hip and cocked them to the side. The boning of her corset was tight and stiff, cleavage rising high as she slid a hand up the silk material and tapped her red painted nails to red painted lips.

Nudging his hip, she commanded, “Goods up on the table.”

Crowley was kneeling a few feet in front of a low coffee table made of dark shining wood. It was perfect for him, just barely at crotch level when he knelt up straight. She laughed to watch him shuffling forward on his knees awkwardly, scowling at her. But his cock was hard and flushed red, bobbing up. It was comical to watch him judder his hips trying to get his dick on the table.

Abaddon stepped up onto the table, high heels clacking on the wood. They were her favorite Louboutins, sleek black vinyl with a towering seven inch stiletto heel and the signature crimson red underneath. She paced the length of the table while Crowley situated himself, the whisper of nylon thigh highs snicking in time with the clack of her heels.

Panting a little, Crowley stilled with his cock on the table. Abaddon nudged the head and tsked. “All the goods, you know the drill by now.”

Crowley huffed and tried to bounce up on his knees, wobbling with his arms tied behind him, finally getting his balls and cock on the table, presented for her.

Abaddon smiled and pressed the head of his cock under her shoe.

“There’s a good boy.”

Crowley licked his lips, pumped his hips closer to the table, the jut of his belly hanging over as he tried to arch back and keep balance.

Honestly, his name probably wasn’t Crowley. Her name certainly wasn’t Abaddon. No one used their actual names in a club like this that served as a hook up place on the main floor with rooms above that rented by the hour. Crowley was only paying for the room though, he wasn’t paying for her. Abaddon had too much fun doing this sort of thing that transacting money for it would just spoil it. She had considered going professional, at one point, but she liked her day job and it paid very, very well.

This was a hobby. There was nothing like making a man grovel at her feet for the privilege to lick her shoes.

Balancing on one foot, she rubbed her shoe along the length of his ruddy cock, twisting her foot to the side to sink her heel down against the flesh. The thin heel could break the surface of his skin if she pressed hard enough. For now, she just sunk the heel down until he gasped, then lifted up and moved further down his cock, pressing in to the skin again.

When she got to the base, Abaddon nudged his dick aside and rolled one of his balls underneath her foot. He started to whimper.

His face was turned down, watching her, but he started to stutter and beg, “Oh god please - don’t - please -“

Pressing her shoe down, Abaddon grabbed his short thinning hair and yanked his face up as she bent over him.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Wide eyed and mouth open he shook his head silently.

“Good. I don’t need to hear your pathetic groveling. You be a good boy and take it, then I might let you lick your blood off my shoes. “

Licking his lips he nodded, silently.

His cocky accent grated on her nerves, she wasn’t interested in listening to him beg, just in listening to him scream.

Cupping his jaw, she leaned over his face and stroked the padded roundness of his face before pulling her hand back and slapping him across the cheek.

“Open.”

Crowley tipped his head back and opened his mouth. Abaddon spit in his mouth and smiled at him. Pressing two fingers into his mouth she pushed them deep in enough to make him gag but he kept his jaw slack. Rubbing her own spit on his lips, she slid her hand back and slapped his face again.

“Good boy.”

Standing up again, switching off her feet to change her balance, she resumed toeing at his balls. His cock tapped and bounced excitedly on the table where it was shoved aside next to her shoe. Pushing the globes of his testes back, she turned her foot around to snag her heel on the wrinkled skin of his sack and drag it along the table, sinking her heel down and pinning it.

He whined and panted and started to moan as she ground her heel deeper into the soft flesh. Hips twitching against the table, pumping closer to her, he bit his lip and a trickle of sweat curved down his jaw.

Abaddon dragged the sharp tip of her heel along the seam of his scrotum and toyed with his sensitive testes until she was bored of it. His cock was tapping a smear of pre-come against the table, shiny and slick. She stepped back and paced the length of the table several times, his eyes trailing her, sliding up her immaculately presented body.

Coming back to stand in front of him, she scratched red nails through his hair and patted his cheek. Rolling his cock underneath her foot, she slid her shoe along the length of it, jacking him off trapped between her shoe and the table. He was a sniveling whimpering thing. Rolling her shoe around in a circle at the head she worked him up, then shifted and pressed her heel against his spongy cock head.

Crowley screamed. It was music to her ears.

Rubbing the point of her heel against his slit as his cock jerked around, it took finesse to keep his dick under heel. Growing impatient, she pinned down the shaft with her sharp heel and pressed, harder, listening to the frantic panic grow in his voice, pressed hard enough until blood started to well up around her heel.

Lifting off, she smeared her shoe against the red that spurted from the shaft of his cock, sliding it slicked from base to tip and rubbing his head under her shoe, pressing hard and circling, crushing him under her heel until he came. Blood darkened semen spattered the shiny wood table.

Crowley was slumping over sweating, his shoulders trembling when Abaddon stepped off his cock. Walking to the edge of the table and placing her hands on her hips she looked down at him.

“Not bad. Clean up your mess now.”

Crowley scooted back from the table and hunched forward, almost toppling, resting his cheek against the table as he licked blood and come off her shoes. Abaddon nudged her foot against his face, smearing the mess on his flushed skin, pressing the underside of her shoe to his lips.

This was her favorite part. She relished the sight of him cleaning his fluids off her shoes as he panted and his cock dripped blood on the hardwood floor. When she stepped off the table, she’d have to untie him and see to cleaning then bandaging his cock. But for another minute, he was thralled in her control.

-

Come Monday morning, Josie Sands was feeling invigorated and ready for a corporate take over. There was nothing like a good scene over the weekend to recharge, the lingering wash of power and authority in her veins had her in a cheerful mood.

She had finally managed to make an appointment with Fergus MacLeod, CEO of M&M Contracting. Honestly, he should be begging Josie for the meeting. Her company would make MacLeod a very very rich man. At the cost of dismantling his company and putting most of the people underneath him out of business. But MacLeod would do well for himself with the merger.

His company was a rising force, managing to get contracts all along the East coast, and spreading West, for projects as varied as suburban gated communities and inner city high rise condos. They could do great things together. But Josie was more interested in taking what he had for herself. MacLeod was known for his crafty deals and pages of subclauses. Josie though, she had a reputation as cut-throat at the corporate game.

In her neat pressed dark suit, and her stiletto Louboutins that reminded her to stand tall and take what she knew she deserved, she strode in to MacLeod’s office at nine a.m. sharp.

Imagine her surprise when the man in the dark suit seated behind an ornate mahogany desk only barely managed to close his flabbergasted mouth before standing to shake her hand. His personal secretary closed the door behind Josie, leaving the two of them alone.

“Well now. These negotiations are going to be a lot more interesting than I anticipated. Isn’t that right, Crowley.”


End file.
